


death bed

by diminishedmercury



Series: Snapshots from The Battlegrounds [9]
Category: SMITE (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Switching, brat cú chulainn as per usual, mentioned mythological incest, no beta we die like men, rip aphro's orgy, very lightly mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:41:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26340553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diminishedmercury/pseuds/diminishedmercury
Summary: “I get what I want,” He tells him at the start of the match, a haughty smile on pretty lips. There’s something about him that reminds him of the warrior queen Medb. It’s as infuriating as it is enticing and Cú Chulainn doesn’t know whether he should feel angry or nostalgic. He doesn’t like Tsukuyomi— he’s arrogant and so pious, but he’s beautiful and terrifying all the same. Amaterasu warns him about her brother and former husband. Don’t trust him, she says. He doesn’t know what took place between them, doesn’t really understand their relationship to begin with, but he trusts Amaterasu’s judgement.
Relationships: Cú Chulainn (SMITE)/Tsukuyomi (SMITE)
Series: Snapshots from The Battlegrounds [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1472381
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	death bed

“I get what I want,” He tells him at the start of the match, a haughty smile on pretty lips. There’s something about him that reminds him of the warrior queen Medb. It’s as infuriating as it is enticing and Cú Chulainn doesn’t know whether he should feel angry or nostalgic. He doesn’t like Tsukuyomi— he’s arrogant and _so_ pious, but he’s beautiful and terrifying all the same. Amaterasu warns him about her brother and former husband. _Don’t trust him,_ she says. He doesn’t know what took place between them, doesn’t really understand their relationship to begin with, but he trusts Amaterasu’s judgement.

It’s hard to not be pulled in by that pure light. It’s entrancing, and while he had told Amaterasu he would stray away from him, he can’t ignore his teammate once they’ve been drafted onto the same team. “I get what I want,” Tsukuyomi reminds him when he ruthlessly cuts down his own sister, Cú Chulainn’s lane opponent, a glint in his eye that he doesn’t know how to describe. He leaves the lane with a lingering look at Cú Chulainn’s huffing frame and he knows that he is in for trouble later down the line.

“I get what I want,” Tsukuyomi whispers from behind him, one arm wrapped around his puffing chest and a hand slipped under his clothing to rest on his breast, the enemy’s titan in ruins at their feet. Amaterasu’s stare cuts deep into his eyes from her fountain. _Don’t trust him_ , her words echo in his head.

“Not this time, laddie,” He shrugs off Tsukuyomi’s wandering hand. It’s harder for him to find the _desire_ to remove it than he’d like to admit. Medb, he’s reminded of again when he’s fixed with a coy smile and a tilt of the head.

“This time,” He parrots back. His voice is filled with a challenge— _you won’t resist me for long_ , it says.

“Leave, Brother.” Amaterasu hisses from somewhere behind them. He hadn’t even noticed her approach. She touches his arm gently, a comforting weight in the face of the oppressive gravity that Tsukuyomi seemed to possess.

“I will.” He says, looking far too amused and less threatened than he’s sure Amaterasu was going for. “For now.” There’s a promise there. Trouble. This is trouble. He turns his back to them and wanders off and Cú Chulainn can’t help but to watch his retreating form until he’s gone.

“I’m sorry,” She apologizes, but Cú Chulainn doesn’t know what for. “Are you okay, my friend?” She asks. She searches his face for something, but again, he doesn’t know what for. She seems to find her answer when he sees a flicker of recognition in her eyes.

“‘M fine, Ama. Let’s find the other girls.” Deflection. It was easiest. She doesn’t look convinced, but she doesn’t press and simply walks with him as he goes off in search of their friends. They find Aphrodite first, as per usual, and Bellona last, as per usual. Mortal movies night proves a good enough distraction for both of them, Artio curled around them all in her bear form with Amaterasu in Bellona’s lap and Aphrodite in his.

* * *

“I get what I want,” He’s reminded by Tsukuyomi again, this time as his lane opponent. He’s backed up into a wall where Tsukuyomi’s mana buff had previously been held. He could leap the wall, but he’s too weakened and there’s a tower ready to wail on him if he does. He can’t run. Tsukuyomi has done too much damage to ensure that. He could try to stall for enough time for his jungler to show up, but he doesn’t have any idea where Set actually is. He knows there’s been fighting in the duo lane. Set won’t be there anytime soon. Amaterasu and Olorun would be helping him. Aphrodite would be too. He was on his own.

He’s ready to accept his death. It’ll be forty seconds spent in cold darkness, but he would be back nonetheless. He’s surprised when Tsukuyomi drops his blades and reaches up to cup his face with both hands. His grip falters on his Gae Bulg and it too falls next to Mangetsu and Shingetsu. “Are you ready to give me what I want?” He speaks in a soft voice, so quietly that Cú Chulainn has to strain to hear it over the rushing of blood in his ears.

“Here?” He’s surprised by himself. It shouldn’t have been his first question, but he finds himself wanting to give Tsukuyomi what he wants. It’s the same magnetic pull that Medb possessed. It’s the same dangerous lust that had gotten him into so much trouble in his mortal lifetime.

Tsukuyomi pulls his head down towards his own, turns it in his hands, and presses soft lips to his jaw. “Later,” He promises. “After I have brought you to your knees.” He lets him go, stepping back and picking up his tonfas. “They will not stand up to my will for much longer.” He leaves him standing there, back pressed against the cool stone of the wall he’d been pinned against, and Cú Chulainn barely has the sense to quickly recall before Pele sniffs out his blood soaking the waters.

* * *

His titan does end up in rubble at his feet, though it was not for lack of effort on his nor his team’s part. They fought hard, but Tsukuyomi’s oppressive damage combined with Yemoja’s control had proved too difficult to stand up to.

He’s in the middle of consoling Aphrodite (she had always been a handful when facing a rough loss) when he feels a hand rest at the small of his back. “He’s mine right now,” He hears Aphrodite sniffle in front of him, her grip on his neck tightening ever so slightly. She’s glaring at whoever stands behind him and he somehow has the feeling that it is the Japanese moon god himself. He hasn’t forgotten their encounter in the jungle.

“Later.” It’s his turn to say, turning his neck enough to get a look at the man’s handsome face. He looks amused by the choice of words, almost as if he finds them funny.

“Make me wait too long and you will come to regret that decision.” He rolls his eyes at the haughty words, but Tsukuyomi leaves them with a lingering touch at Cú Chulainn’s hip.

“I don’t like him.” Aphrodite speaks up, blue eyes staring up at him with a frown on her pretty lips. He doesn’t know whether she means it or if it’s simply because he’d momentarily stolen his attention away from her. It wouldn’t be the first time Aphrodite has become possessive of her best friend’s attention.

“I do,” He admits with a heavy sigh. “An’ tha’ is the problem, isn’ it?” He feels one of Aphrodite’s hands move to pet the hair at the base of his neck, her frown deepening.

“Just don’t let him get the best of you.” It’s another warning. It’s another red flag that he should be paying attention to. He finds that his desire outweighs his sense of caution and simply rests a hand on the back of Aphrodite’s head and lets her rest her cheek against his collarbone.

* * *

He shows up at the Japanese pantheon’s lodgings feeling somewhat intimidated. He’s been there numerous times— whether it be for picking Amaterasu up for one of the group’s movie nights or just to spend some time with the Japanese warrior. He doesn’t want her to see him there, but he knows better than to think that she won’t notice. She knew everything that happened under the sun’s rays after all.

Tsukuyomi is in the foyer, apparently waiting for him. He’s leaned against one of the pillars, keeping himself occupied with tossing a kunai around on his fingers. It shouldn’t have been nearly as enticing as it was. That same coy smile is back on his lips when he spots him. He’s reminded of a cat playing with its prey. “Cú?” He hears Amaterasu from further in the building. She’s sitting on one of the seating area’s couches. Tsukuyomi raises an elegant brow, almost daring him to ignore him now. He gets the feeling that his patience is ready to snap.

“Later, Ama.” He says. Tsukuyomi smiles wider. Amaterasu frowns.

“Good boy,” Tsukuyomi purrs, sliding the kunai into the belt around Cú Chulainn’s waist and pulling him along by the hand. _Danger_ , his mind screams, but his feet refuse to falter in their steps as he makes his way into the metaphorical dragon’s lair. He feels Amaterasu’s piercing gaze follow his back the whole way and makes a note to seek her out at a later time. He had a feeling that Tsukuyomi planned on him being busy for a while.

Tsukuyomi’s room is elegant, though it lacks a real sense of home. White silks that shine like the moonlight are fixed across the bannisters of the ceiling and the posters of the large bed. Velvet lays across the foot of the bed in a deep purple color that reminds Cú Chulainn of Mangetsu. It’s brighter than he might have imagined for a god that primarily lived in the night, but it makes sense for someone who was born bathed in the light of the moon. There’s an archway that leads to a white marbled room, and he presumes it’s his bath chambers though he can’t see it from his angle.

“You’ve made me wait.”

“Ya’re demandin’.” He’s met with a curious look, almost commanding him to continue. He snorts and shrugs. “Thought we were statin’ th’ obvious.”

“Humorous. Will you be so mouthy with my cock in your mouth?” He swallows thickly at the thought, somewhat surprised by the crass words coming out of the dignified god’s mouth. It’s more pleasant than it should be considering who he was dealing with— then again, _he_ was the one to meet Tsukuyomi. It was obvious by now that he had an attraction to Tsukuyomi, he just wasn’t sure if it was purely physical yet.

“Probably,” He challenges.

“And if we were to reverse the roles?” He’s circling him now, sizing him up. Adrenaline pumped loudly in his ears. It felt like the same rush he received before battle.

“Ya ever been told that yer kind of a slut?” He sees something flash in Tsukuyomi’s eyes then and he’s unprepared for the swift strike to the back of his knees that sends him crashing to the floor. His knees hit the marbling with a pained grunt before his chin is taken into a small hand. There’s a deceptive amount of power in his grip for his slim stature.

“ _You_ will address me with respect. Master, Sir, Sire… these are acceptable.” It’s sort of what he was expecting based on what he’s seen of Tsukuyomi on the battlegrounds. Always demanding respect and enforcing his (self-appointed) authority over the other gods.

“Suppose tha’ makes me the slut?” He’s playing with fire, but he’s never been one to shy away from danger. He lives for the thrill of dancing the thin line between safety and punishment, and it’s clear that Tsukuyomi would be more than willing to take up the role of enforcer if Cú Chulainn kept up his attitude.

“You could be the consort, when I become the rightful ruler.” Tsukuyomi laughs. Cú Chulainn doesn’t miss the fact that he hadn’t used the words “ _if_ I become ruler.” He also finds humor in the irony of the statement. Once upon a time, Tsukuyomi had been the royal consort— as fucked up as that was, what with the blood relation between Amaterasu and Tsukuyomi, but he had learned that gods held a _very_ different idea of family and morals compared to mortals. One peak at the Greek or Egyptian pantheon could confirm that. “Unless Sister has already claimed you, I suppose. Then I’d have to be rid of you by tradition. What a waste that would be.”

“Ya know _just_ the right words to make a man hot and bothered, don’t ya? Can’t think of anythin’ that gets me off more than the thought of my own murder.”

“You really _are_ mouthy. Let’s make better use of those lips, shall we?” He wants to make another retort, but he isn’t given the chance to when slender fingers find their way buried in his throat. “Disrobe me,” He says and Cú Chulainn is quick to take the point when there’s a particularly rough jab down his throat when he’s too slow for Tsukuyomi’s liking to obey the command. He works his tongue around the digits in his mouth, wetting rough leather with his spit where the start of Tsukuyomi’s fingerless gloves begin as his hands reach up and start working at the layers of clothing that cover his lower half. The knots are annoying when he’s not really looking at what he’s doing, eyes glued to icy grey pools that stare down at him. He manages his goal though, stripping away armor until he’s given enough room to breathe, gulping down air in large gasps.

Tsukuyomi moves over to the edge of the bed, taking his place regally and with more grace than should really be afforded to the moon god. He goes to stand and follow, assuming the next order before it comes, but he stops with a raised brow when he’s fixed with a sharp glare. “Did you have _permission_ to stand?” Everything in Cú Chulainn screams to rebel, to push back and see how far he can bend these boundaries. “Crawl.” His teeth grit against the order.

He stands, challenge burning bright in his brawny frame. He sees that same flash of emotion in his eyes again from earlier, an annoyance at his continued defiance. He watches with some level of curiosity as the man slowly peels away one of his gloves from his arm, twisting his hand to and fro. Tsukuyomi is back on him in an instant and his cheek stings as his ears process the loud smack that doubtlessly came from the backhand he’d just received. “ _Crawl._ ” He says again, daring him to disobey. He almost wants to— the pain was sweet in a way he found hard to describe.

He holds Tsukuyomi’s gaze as he slowly allows himself to sink to his knees again, palms pressing against the cool material of the floor. There’s satisfaction in stormy grey eyes and he follows his movements back to his previous seat on his metaphorical throne. It’s humiliating to take the first few steps towards him, but he’s determined to push through that feeling if only to spite the man sitting in front of him. And oh… how sweet the humiliation was alongside the dull throb of his cheek. He knew _that_ would be bruising tomorrow.

“Good boy,” Tsukuyomi breathes when he reaches him, holding out one clothed foot to him. He gets the message, tugging at the bindings of his jikatabi, pulling it off of a slender foot. He hates to realize it, but everything about Tsukuyomi was elegant and regal. He could see the reason why he was once the royal consort. He repeats the process again when offered his other leg, pulling it away and setting it aside with the other items. He’s left in leggings and what could barely count as a shirt then and Cú Chulainn feels admittedly overdressed now. “Your pleasure will come.” He promises, but he hears the unspoken meaning— “ _my_ pleasure comes first.”

He almost speaks up, but a tiny voice in the back of his head begs him to obey. To submit. Still, if Tsukuyomi thought he had all of the power here, Cú Chulainn was more than willing to prove him wrong. The first drag of his tongue against the rough texture of cotton pulls a sigh from pretty lips above him. It’s been a… while since he’s pleasured anyone other than himself, but the movements come back to him naturally, lips wrapping around the outline of Tsukuyomi’s cock in the confines of his trousers. He takes his time working up the self-righteous God above him, hands pushing apart Tsukuyomi’s knees and letting his spit soak a wet spot in the front of black leggings. It’s not going _exactly_ how he’d planned it to, but he can feel the carefully constructed air of confidence slipping from the moon god by the way he fists a hand into his air and yanks him to and fro, evidently wanting him to focus on certain spots more than others.

“Just get on with it,” Tsukuyomi hisses at him as he continues to suck and lick through cotton. It’s a win for him and he grins as he dips his fingers underneath a tight waistband. He only slips his leggings and underwear far enough down his thighs that his dick bounces free, his tongue quickly swiping away the bead of pre-cum that threatens to spill down the length of his shaft. He can feel the frustration in Tsukuyomi’s thighs as he wraps his arms around them and yanks his legs over his shoulders. “ _Get on with it_ ,” Tsukuyomi hisses again, pushing his head into his crotch again and Cú Chulainn delights in the way his cock misses his mouth and pushes against his cheek.

It’s kitten licks and butterfly kisses, his hands never once letting go of their grip around powerful thighs. “Do ya wan’ my mouth that badly, bóidheach gaelach?” He lets hot breath fan out across his inner thighs when he says it, and he can feel the frustration again in the way his muscles flex around the tight grip he still hasn’t let up on. “I’ll give ya everythin’ ya wan’,” He promises before swallowing down Tsukuyomi’s cock in one go. There’s a rather un-Kingly whimper from somewhere above him and he feels the white-haired man curl his body around his head, pushing insistently and holding him down. He can’t really move the way he wants to like this, but he makes do with the way he swirls his tongue around his mouth and swallows thickly around the intrusion in his throat. The pressure on his head from Tsukuyomi’s hands lets up and he can _finally_ pull back and take a deep breath before pushing himself right back down, continuing a pattern of swallowing and massaging the man’s cock with the muscles in his throat. It’s an awkward position, really, neither one of them can really move the way they want to, but Cú Chulainn gets enough of a thrill from just having this arrogant prick losing his mind just because he’s played with his prick a little bit that he doesn’t mind it. It’s tempting to just crawl up his body and drop down onto his length in one motion, it really is, but he’s keen on finding out just how far he can push before he’s punished. He lets go of his grip on one leg and immediately feels Tsukuyomi calves flex against his back, crossing there and squeezing him in like a python.

The shocked moan that’s pulled from his breast is more than enough satisfaction for the Celt when he teases pressure at Tsukuyomi’s entrance. Soft hair tickles his shoulder blades as the Japanese god keeps himself bent practically in half over his head and he shivers when one of Tsukuyomi’s hands dances down his spine. His head bobs of his own accord, and Tsukuyomi’s hand just rests in his hair and lets him do as he pleases. These self-righteous types were always the same, a pattern he’d learned to exploit a long time ago when he was still in his homelands. The sense of power that thrummed through his veins bringing them to whimpering messes was still the same. He continues playing at pressure, just the very tip of his thumb threatening to press inside of Tsukuyomi, while he throats him with little challenge. He wants more, but he also wants to wring Tsukuyomi dry before he gets to his own release.

He’s a bit surprised when Tsukuyomi roughly rips his head up to stare up at a red-stained, sweaty face. “Strip,” He orders through harsh pants and Cú Chulainn knows that this man is close to his breaking point already. He complies easily though, standing and turning to give him a show as he pulls away the layers of his armor.

He’s far from prepared when two oil slicked fingers are shoved rather unceremoniously into his ass and four into his mouth to bend him into a bow. It’s a harsh burn, but a good one, and he moans loudly around his makeshift gag. “I’m going to tear you apart,” Tsukuyomi whispers into his ear and he’s nodding his head happily before he registers Tsukuyomi’s next words. “And then you will do the same to me.” He doesn’t really leave any room for argument, but it’s not as if he would put up any sort of a fight to _that_ suggestion.

It’s been dubbed his turn to be teased, evidently. Tsukuyomi’s fingers push and pull at a pace that’s far too slow, far too calculated. They nudge and push at his prostate, never really giving him the pressure he wants. He’s going to explode, chest heaving as he tries to suck in air around the digits still pulling him back into Tsukuyomi’s chest, shaking his hips as much as he _can_ to try and get some more friction. Tsukuyomi only laughs at him and completely stalls the pace of his fingering and it yanks a frustrated moan out of his throat. “So dominant one minute and then so compliant the next… I think I really _might_ make you my consort.” Except that he wouldn’t, Cú Chulainn knows. If war brews in the battlegrounds, he’s going to be on the other side of the fight. He can’t bring himself to really care about the fact that he may be sleeping with the literal enemy when he adds two more fingers next to the first two, though.

“Belenus, just fuck me!” He hisses dumbly, the words barely intelligible around his accent and the muffling of Tsukuyomi’s fingers.

“Since you asked so _kindly_.” He’s shoved down into silk sheets, a tight grip on his hips yanking them high into the air. “Now who’s desperate for it?” He laughs again and the sound is starting to grate on his nerves. He doesn’t have enough time to come up with a response as he’s suddenly filled with cock and a hand slaps down harshly onto his ass. “Show your King your gratitude.” There’s a hand flattened against his shoulder blades, getting him firmly pinned down and he knows what’s being asked of him. With no real purchase against the mattress, there’s really no easy way for him to do this, but he manages the push and pull of his hips just fine. There’s no movement from Tsukuyomi himself and there’s something strangely erotic about that knowledge. He’s just watching him slide up and down on his length like some kind of cheap whore, holding him down even while he does it, and he only wishes that he could somehow get a good look at that, that didn’t involve his imagination.

As soon as he’s found a rhythm that’s comfortable for him, the bastard just _has_ to ruin it. The hand doesn’t falter in its place at his back, but now there’s another hand gripping his hip so tightly he’s afraid it might shatter and Tsukuyomi is pushing _in_ every time that he pushes his hips forwards. He wants to make demands, but he knows anything he says is going to be met with the opposite of what he wants. He goes lax as a thought occurs to him, turning his face just enough to fixate a silent plea on a red-hot face. It gets him _exactly_ what he wants, two hands gripping his waist and rough thrusts practically shoving him up towards the headboard. He can’t help the laugh that escapes his chest and he’s glad that he’s ignored in favor of Tsukuyomi’s desire to ruin his ass.

He thinks he’s going to break under the fast, rough pace that Tsukuyomi sets, but it’s such a good build up of fire that he just _doesn’t care_ . That seemed to be a recurring theme for him. There’s a hand back in his hair again, pulling him up by the strong grip it has and bending him back into that bow shape. “So. Tight,” Tsukuyomi hisses into his ear and he’s got his body pulled so taut that his head is resting on his shoulder. He’s so hard that it hurts, but he doesn’t want to cum yet— he’d much rather be inside of Tsukuyomi’s pretty ass when he did that. Especially if he can make _him_ cum before that. A shiver runs down his spine at the thought of the fucked-out, sensitive moans he’s going to wring out of the Japanese god after he finishes ravaging his backside.

“Fuck, laddie,” He hisses as the grip on his hip tightens _again_ , blunt nails digging crescent moons into the skin and he thinks that’s oddly fitting considering who put them there. There’s a bite at his shoulder and a high-pitched moan and then there’s warmth spilling inside of him. He knows he’s bleeding by the wet sounds of suction and licking at the stinging pain, but he’d be damned if the pain wasn’t sweet.

“Your turn,” Tsukuyomi really has no right to be that confident when he’s doing such dirty things with his tongue at his ear. He doesn’t waste a second to twist around and push the moon god’s back down onto the sweat-soaked sheets. He’s not planning on wasting time with prep. He knows it’s going to hurt, but Tsukuyomi has done nothing but prove to him that he wants it that way (and it’s not as if he wouldn’t stop if Tsukuyomi really wanted him to— he’s not _that_ big of a dick).

He’s slicked and pushing inside of Tsukuyomi in one smooth motion and the silent ‘O’ that forms on Tsukuyomi’s lips is more than worth the soreness that’s already making itself known in his hips. He knows he’s hyper-sensitive by the way he twists in the sheets and drags his nails (and fuck, they practically felt like claws) down the muscles of his back. “Harder,” He pants and Cú Chulainn can’t help but to roll his eyes.

“Jus’ shut up for a while.” His point is punctuated by a hand wrapping around a pale column of skin. He’s only met with a fucked-out smile and a tight clench of heat that sends his head spinning. He squeezes just enough that Tsukuyomi feels a difference in effort to suck in a breath of air and times each squeeze of his hand to release when he pulls almost all the way out of Tsukuyomi’s tight body. He knows he’s going to look like he was mauled by a bear with how many scratches are being left on his back and he only plans on returning the favor with pretty bruises littering his neck. He’s so keyed up already that he doesn’t have the stamina to make this last that much longer. Tsukuyomi is getting hard again underneath him and he only hopes he can hold out long enough to pull another orgasm out of him before he blows his load as deep as he can go inside of the moon god.

“Now who’s desperate?” He mocks with a cut off laugh as he reaches down to tug once, twice, three times at the man’s weeping cock. He milks him of any cum he has left in him as he rides out his own that’s forced out by the rhythmic clench and unclench of Tsukuyomi’s muscles from orgasm.

He pants harshly as he holds himself above Tsukuyomi, sliding his hand away from his neck and just curling his arm around the top of his head to lean down. He’s surprised that it’s Tsukuyomi that reaches up with a tired hand to cup his cheek and pull him all the way down into an openmouthed kiss. It’s sweeter than anything else they’ve done in this bed and he’s caught off-guard by it. Nonetheless, he relaxes into the pleasant moment, one hand resting gently on the outside of one of Tsukuyomi’s thighs as his lips move of their own accord. He ruins the moment himself when he lets himself fall bodily on top of the Japanese god.

“ _Ugh_ , _why_ are you so _heavy_?” Tsukuyomi complains from under him, wiggling in a way that definitely didn’t do any justice for the self-proclaimed “ruler” of the Japanese pantheon’s dignity. 

“Can’ help tha’ yer a skinny little thing.” He snorts, snuggling into the crook of his neck.

“Are you _cuddling_ me?” The tone of his voice is so scandalized that he can’t help the ugly laugh that pulls itself out of his throat. His wiggles his hips to remind him of who’s still inside of who and he can’t contain his laughter again when he’s met with an even _more_ scandalized expression.

“Go t’ _sleep_.”

“Disgusting,” He hears Tsukuyomi mutter, but he’s long since stopped paying attention. And who could blame him? He was tired and he wanted to rest. He doesn’t hear any other complaints from Tsukuyomi as he drifts off towards some rather filthy dreams.

* * *

**BONUS:**

“You. Did. Not.” Aphrodite hisses at him the moment he shows up for movies night with the girls. She’s on him in the next blink of an eye, pulling his face down and pressing the back of her hand to his forehead. “Are you sick? You must be sick! Because we _all_ told you _not_ to trust that man!”

“Well—” He starts to say, but he’s cut off by the look on his best friend’s face.

“Aphro let him explain. I, for one, woul’ like t’ hear it.” Artio looks far more amused than Aphrodite and Amaterasu do, but he’s grateful that at least Bellona doesn’t seem to understand what’s going on.

“... Ya don’ have t’ trust someone t’ fuck them?”

“That sounds like something I would say and it is exactly why I hate you right now.” He can only give Aphro a sheepish look as Ama shakes her head with a sigh before patting the open seat next to her.

“I only hope that he’s still a talented lover for your sake,” of all the things he was expecting Amaterasu to say, _that_ was not one of them. He doesn’t have any sort of intelligent reply to that and wordlessly settles himself into the seat she’s appointed to him. It feels like they’re about to let this all go and watch the film that Bellona’s picked out tonight until Aphrodite opens her mouth again.

“Can’t _we_ at least fuck you, then?” Bellona chokes. Amaterasu turns pink. Artio howls in laughter. Cú Chulainn wants to hide.

“Artio’s a _lesbian!_ ” He doesn’t want to think about why this feels like a subject that Bellona has thought about before.

“Well she doesn’t have to fuck him at the orgy! There’s plenty of pairs of tits around here!”

“Can we just watch a _movie_?” He begs.

“Fine,” Aphro relents, plopping herself down into his lap and feeling just a little more possessive of him than she normally does. “But the orgy shall not be forgotten.” He hates her as much as he loves her right now.

**Author's Note:**

> who's as frustrated with tsukuyomi as i am? love his kit and personality, but fuck if he isn't overtuned lmao
> 
> next up: aphro's orgy (bellona/ama/aphro/artio/cú chu)? good old arthur/cú? lemme know if there's anything y'all wanna see


End file.
